Religion is central to life in Ethiopia, as it is in the rest of Africa.
But it is of a very different type. Neighbouring Kenya became Christian
just over a century ago. Its Christianity still has a stripped-down
missionary flavour. The Amhara and Tigray regions of Ethiopia, by
contrast, were Christian long before St Augustine of Canterbury landed
in England. The Band Aid anthem to raise money for Ethiopian famine
victims in 1984 was in some ways ill-judged: of course they knew it was
Christmastime.
Yet Ethiopia is also a country of revolutionary zeal. It is ruled by an
inner circle of former Marxist guerrillas who are not evidently
religious. That sets up a tension in the country. After this week’s
election victory by the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic
Front (EPRDF), I ask Ethiopians what they would like to ask their
long-serving prime minister, Meles Zenawi. Most often they say they
would like to quiz him about God. “I want to know if he is a believer,”
says my driver in Addis Ababa. Teddy—his name changed to protect his
identity—is critical of the government. They have done many good things.
But they like to control us.” Even in heavy traffic Teddy takes his
hands off the steering wheel and crosses himself when passing one of the
many churches. He gently recounts his own story of last week’s
elections. The organisers of the taxi fleet he drives for are
card-carrying members of the EPRDF. “We are not talking about many
people. Maybe 20 out of a couple of hundred cabs. But they decide on
many things, including the renewal of licences. They told the rest of us
we had to attend government rallies in a procession during the election
campaign. Most of us refused. After the election they will come for us.”
What will he do then? Teddy shrugs. He is close to retirement, but has
two small children. “A man cannot live on his knees.”
The fear among Ethiopians like Teddy is similar to that of citizens in
the Soviet bloc in the 1970s. Those who prove themselves to the party
will be awarded promotions and sinecures, however modest. Those who
refuse to join in risk losing the privileges they have. And for the few
who openly challenge the way in which the EPRDF muddles its own interest
with the national interest there is the prospect of censorship,
harassment and prison.
Ethiopia is an authoritarian state, not a totalitarian one. The choice
is difficult, but it remains a choice. The situation is in some ways
harder than in the Soviet Union though. There is no barbed wire holding
the Ethiopians in, rather an overwhelming indifference in the rest of
the world. Nor do many in the opposition have an alternative to the
EPRDF. Whatever criticism is made of Mr Zenawi, he is more cogent and
measured than the opposition. There are a few heroes in the opposition,
including Birtukan Mideksa, a single mother who is serving a life
sentence in solitary confinement for standing up to the government. But
her heroics are undercut by the failure of the opposition to unite
around a manifesto for the future of Ethiopia.
Over the next five years critics of the EPRDF can expect to be further
marginalised. Western donors are largely happy with this state of
affairs. They hope for something like an African version of Yugoslavia
under Tito before it collapsed into chaos. Stability is indeed a
precious prize, if your goal is to eradicate extreme poverty. The danger
though is that progress at the bottom will mean suffocation of a an
independent-minded middle class. Lackeys seldom make the creative leaps
a country like Ethiopia needs as its population swells to perhaps as
much 30m in the coming decades (up from 40m in the days of Band Aid). At
present a tenth of the country would perish without foreign food aid.
The EPRDF is unwilling to give up control of farmland, telecoms, and the
internet. Ethiopia’s banks, stocks, and insurance markets are far behind
other big African countries. None of that bodes well. Ethiopians have
historically always attacked the centre from the periphery. If the
country cannot run ahead of its poverty, the risk of a Yugoslav-style
denouement grows. Religion plays into the fatalism. Many Ethiopians
believe that the opposition is incidental. Only God can change their
government.
